


Portraits in Stone

by BarPurple



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Dark Castle, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-07 09:59:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18408323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarPurple/pseuds/BarPurple
Summary: Rumple and Belle use a handy set of stones to communicate while he is away on deals.





	Portraits in Stone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [beastlycheese](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beastlycheese/gifts).



“Rumple? What are these for?”

Rumple gave a small sigh. It had seemed like such a good idea this morning, to have Belle help him sort the cupboards of lesser magical items. The job should have been done and dusted in a hour or two, but it was now approaching evening and they were barely halfway through. He'd forgotten to allow for Belle's insatiable curiosity. Add to that her total certainty that he wouldn't turn her into a toad for asking questions, and he'd spent most of the day explaining the workings and history of dozens of magical items.

It hadn't been a bad way to while away what would have been a dull day he supposed.

Belle was currently holding two smooth black rocks. Flat on one side and curve on the other, the two would fit together to create a polished egg about the size of a duck's. Rumple smiled, he'd not forgotten he had these little oddities, but he'd had no cause to spare them any thought since he'd traded for them.

“Aha! You might enjoy these.”

He plucked one of the stones from Belle's hand and whirled around to conceal what he was about to do from her. The squeak of irritation she let out as she tried to dodge around him made him titter.

“Uh-uh-uh.” His wagging finger caused her to pout at him, but with only a small huff she allowed herself to be shooed back a few paces. He wouldn't accept that challenging look from anyone else, but Belle was different, his caretaker was bound to be allowed some small liberties. He could hear the rustle of her clothing as she tried to lean around him to catch a glimpse of what he was doing. He held the rounded side of the stone in his hand and kept the flat side close to his face so the high collar of his waistcoat obscured her view. Very softly he whispered; “Cheese.” He'd never understood why that was the activation word, some strange joke by the creator of these things he guessed. The flat surface shimmered and captured an image of him. From behind him he heard a chirping sound.

“Oh! Rumple, I can see you!”

He turned on his heel and waved his hand in the air; “I should hope so, dearie, I'm standing right in front of you.”

Belle clucked her tongue at his mild teasing. She was focused on the image of him that had been transferred to the rock in her hands. It had to be the spectacle of the magic that had created that look of wonder on her face. It certainly wasn't going to be the rather-too-close image of his scaly face. She looked up at him with bright eyes, he recognized that look. He leaned back against the table and crossed his legs at the ankle ready for the inevitable onslaught of questions.

It always surprised him that she never swooned at moments like this, for she never appeared to draw breath. Although, he had noticed a slight flush would colour her cheeks sometimes. He idly examined his claws. This show of affected indifference was to preserve his beastly image, and what was left of his sanity. He'd watched her take a deep breath the first time she'd bombarded him with questions. The sudden tightness of her bodice had sparked something akin to concern within him. He'd almost blurted out that she no longer needed to be a slave to fashion if it affected her comfort. Not at all the sort of thing a beast would say.

He had briefly entertained the idea that she was attempting to use her physical charms against him, but Belle honestly didn't appear to know just how well her name suited her. She truly was a very odd girl.

He heard her draw breath, and here came the questions.

“Do these work both ways? Can anyone spy on them, like with the mirrors? Do they send sound as well? Are these part of an important deal? Are they safe to use regularly?”

A second deep breath and it was safe for him to look up again. Five questions, these odd little stones had caught her interest. Now why would that be? He ticked his answers off on his fingers.

“Yes. No. No. No. Yes.”

A smile he would almost describe as sneaky curled her lips. His little maid had a plan.

“So, we could use these while you are out on your deals? They're a better way to keep an eye on me than the ravens afterall.”

Rumple couldn't argue that point. After the incident with the Queens of Darkness he had warned her about the dangers of birds as spies. She'd taken his words to heart. His dire warnings had slipped his mind when a deal took longer than expected and he wanted to see what she was up to alone in the castle. A messenger raven had been a lazy, but effective way to check on her, so he'd thought. When he'd received no answer, he'd hurried back expecting to find her in some manner of trouble. Instead he'd discovered the raven trapped under a large saucepan, and Belle armed with a sword keeping watch for a potential attack. He'd been persona non grata with the ravens across half the realm for months after that incident.

These little stones wouldn't end up with him having to dodge raven shit. He gave her a wide grin; “I think you may have hit upon a rather good idea. I expect I'll be seeing many, many pictures of the books you read in my absence, hum?”

Belle bounced the stone in her hand; “I wouldn't send you images of all the books I read while you are away. Some of the romances would only make you blush.”

Rumple blinked rapidly and snapped his jaw closed. He could deny that he blushed, but since his cheeks felt annoyingly warm that would only earn him a cheeky smirk from her. He pulled a scowl on to his face and wagged a finger at her again; “If we are going to use these, then I'd best teach you how to work them. Now, pay attention. I'm very busy and don't want to repeat myself.”

She dipped her head, but he still caught the flash of triumph in her eyes. Yes, she'd scored a point in their on-going little game of teasing. He'd work out a way to get a few of his own, just as soon as he could get the thought of her reading scandalous novels out of his mind.

-o0o-

Belle had mastered what she had taken to calling the 'portrait stones' after one short lesson. Rumple hadn't expected anything else; she was a fast study at everything from languages to cookery, although dusting still eluded her.

It had taken them a while to negotiate the exact terms for using the stones. Rumple had tried to say all he needed to send was an image of his glaring eye, or a pointed finger, but Belle had huffed and said she would respond in kind and then he would never know what she was up too. In the end they had decided that he would send her an image of where ever he was at the time, and she would respond with an image of what she was doing. Rumple knew he'd been talked into showing her some of the world that she craved to see, but he was rather pleased with the clever way she had gotten what she wanted from him.

He'd thought their plan meant they wouldn't use the stones until he next left the castle for a time, after all it was supposed to be him sending the first image, but Belle quickly took to sending him images of the table laid for tea. If he ignore that image then he receive one of her with a cake in hand ready to take a bite. When he'd been particularly busy one day he'd also received a picture of a plate, empty but for a few crumbs. He had hurried to the great hall at that point and found that she'd tricked him, there had still been plenty of cakes and tea left. He would have been huffy about her trick, but there were peach tarts that needed him immediate attention.

After a few days of this he had felt the need to make some sort of comment; “Most people summon me by calling my name thrice, dearie.”

Belle had shrugged; “You come quicker when there is something sweet on offer.”

He'd choked on his tea at her unintended word-play. A treacherous little voice wondered if it was unintended? After all she had admitted to reading novels of a, hem, colourful nature. She didn't look to be teasing him. There was no tell-tale twitch to her lips as she thumped him on the back and fussed about his sudden bout of coughing. She was just talking about cakes, and he'd read something other into her words. Well, nothing wrong with a beast having a gutter-mind, on occasion. It wasn't as if he was going to act on his thoughts, beast he was, but not that kind of low-life animal. Belle gave him a sweet smile as she poured him another cup of tea. No, he wouldn't act on any of his salacious thoughts with Belle, but there was nothing to stop him occasionally taking himself in hand in the privacy of his own bed chamber.

-o0o-

Rumple was going to either have to find a spell that would alter the meaning of the word 'occasionally' across the realm, or he was going to have to admit that he had become obsessed with the images Belle sent him. He could be his normal self around her in the castle, but the moment he went away for a deal he found himself taking time to choose the best view to send to Belle and then twitching, waiting impatiently for the stone to chirp.

At first, as he had predicted, he had received images of the books she was reading. Then she started sending him images of herself and what she was doing at the time.

And damn it all, those images were testing his self-control.

The first one of her, feather duster in hand stretching to swipe at the glass fronted cabinets in the great hall had an element of seduction to it. The curve of her hip, the stretch of her arm, and a little flash of more stocking-clad leg than he normally saw from her were all rather alluring. He was sure she had no idea how tempting that image was, but he did reconsider his theory that she was trying to seduce him into freeing her. No, no, that was ridiculous. The only women who were attracted to him were crazy for power, Belle didn't give a damn about power, so she wasn't attempting to seduce him.

He looked at that image for quite a while, until he'd committed every fine detail to memory. And that should have been the first warning sign that he had a problem.

The second image of herself she sent him featured the library. She was reclined on the chaise, a book open on her stomach, one arm tucked behind her head as she gazed at the window. Rumple could name a dozen artists in the realm that would sell their souls to paint her portrait in this pose. Even with the help of his magic, not one of them would capture the soft blush on her cheeks, or the secret dreamy smile on her lips.

He'd stared at the stone and it's tantalisingly detailed image until he'd squirmed and palmed his cock through his leathers. With a growl he'd removed his hand, and shoved the stone into his waistcoat pocket. He had work to do! A lord, or count maybe, who wanted, erm something-or-other. Later that night in the dark of an inn room, he'd taken himself in hand and bit through his lip to stop himself from moaning Belle's name.

That should have gotten his lingering lust out of his system. A spot of self-pleasure in the dark might have done the trick if Belle hadn't kept sending him suggestive and alluring images. (The one of her in the garden, bathed in sunlight, her bare feet curling in the grass.) He should have stopped sending her images then she wouldn't have replied. (The one of her smirking over the rim of her tea cup.) He should have taken the damn stone away from her. (The one of her legs, bare from mid-thigh, as she splashed her feet in the lake.) He should have set up another way to keep a check on her when he was away. (The one when he'd clearly woken her up in the early hours, sleepy eyed, her hair fuzzed and mussed on her pillow.) He should have done any number of things to solve this problem, but instead he found himself with his hand on his cock far too often for a dark creature of his considerable years.

He kept his depravity out of the castle. Thrusting into his fist, tugging at his cock, and gasping until spots appeared before his eyes as he stained the bed covers were things only to be done in the dark of a heavily be-spelled tavern room many miles from home.

Belle had no idea what her images did to him. When he returned home all she wanted to talked about was the image of whatever far flung corner of the realm he had sent her. His reaction was his problem and he would deal with it alone, and well away from Belle. No one else ever saw the images of Belle and he would never tell a soul about them. It was a secret, one of many that he kept and would until he died, and even then the devils in hell would have to be bloody creative to get it out of him.

He should stop. Just go out on a deal and forget to send Belle an image. Easy. Then she wouldn't send one back and his addiction would wither away. He should stop, and for the first hours he was away he did stop. He gave no thought to the scenery, not a second glance at the interesting architecture, and didn't spare his little maid a seconds consideration.

He strolled into the opulent room the Agrabah inn had insisted he take that night, and decided to strip of by hand rather than by magic. His dragon-hide coat was shrugged off and slung over a chair. The scarf around his neck was untied and left hanging around his throat as he sat down on the silk covered bed and began to unlace his boots. He felt the weight of the stone in his waistcoat pocket as he slowly tugged the laces free. After a long long while he was able to pull his feet out of his boots. He peeled off his socks and wriggled his toes with a frown. There was sand between his toes, he needed to improve that repelling spell again. His left hand went to his waistcoat buttons as his right dipped into his pocket and wrapped around the stone. Once his waistcoat was draped over his coat he stretched out on the bed and absently rolled the stone between his fingers.

He looked at the smooth black surface and grinned. One more, and this would be the one that broke Belle of the habit. A trickle of purple smoke took the stone into the air above him. Rumple rolled his shoulders and tucked his hands behind his head. He wriggled his hips and let his legs loll apart in comfort. The leather might not be straining, but it did frame his estate rather well.

“Cheese.”

Rumple let the stone hang in the air above him as he closed his eyes.

“Chirp-chirp.”

The stone dropped onto his chest and his fingers fumbled to grab it. Belle had sent him a reply? After that image? No. No, of course not. Thing must be malfunctioning. He turned the stone over in his hand and his eyes bulged out of his head.

Belle. Naked. In his bed.

The shock-wave caused by the rapid departure of the Dark One from Agrabah started a sandstorm that lasted for three days and uncovered the Cave of Wonders.

-o0o-

Even with the fire burning in the hearth, and all the candles she had lit Belle had goosebumps. This was a terrible idea. What had she been thinking? Sending an image like that to Rumple! She was mad! Had to be. But he had sent that delicious image of him laying on a bed. Had he finally taken the hints she'd been sending him? He was going to send her back to the dungeon for this.

A howling swirl of purple smoke appeared at the foot of the bed causing the candles to wildly flicker. Belle's hands grabbed the soft throw around her body as she lurched to sit upright. Whatever level of ire she was about to face she would not do it on her back.

The smoke clear to reveal Rumple as undressed as he had been in the image he had sent to her, but with a very confused face.

“You. You are in my bed.”

Belle nodded. He never appreciated her stating the obvious.

“But this is my bed and you are in it.”

Okay so he was actually as confused as he looked. This was new.

“Yes Rumple. I am in your bed. And I am naked.”

She let the throw slip from her shoulders. The sound Rumple made was something between a whimper and a growl. A hot trickle of arousal ran down Belle's spine.

Rumple's whole body twitched towards the bed, but he sharply pulled himself back; “What do you want Belle?”

“I want you Rumple.”

When he still hesitated Belle elaborated; “I want you Rumple, as a woman wants a man, for pleasure, and for intimacy.”

He lurched forward, his knees landed by her feet and his hands by her hips. His face was scant inches from hers. She saw him swallow and then felt his warm breath across her skin as he whispered; “Do you mean that? Really mean all of that to happen between the two of us? For us to share that act?”

Slowly she raised her hands to his jaw. His eyes fluttered shut as she stroked her fingers over his mottled skin.

“Rumple? Do you want me as a man wants a woman?”

“Yes.”

Her thumbs brushed over his lips and she said; “Yes. I mean every word. I want you Rumple.”

He whimpered and leaned in slowly toward her. Belle met him half-way and their lips met in a gentle kiss. For a long moment neither of them moved. Finally Belle wound her hands into Rumple's hair. Belle squeaked against his lips as he surged forward and pushed her back against the pillows. He was between her legs, but holding himself away from her, so as not to crush her. Their kisses deepen, passion and need turning the simple press of lips into licks and nibbles.

“Belle. Belle.”

Rumple eased back despite her clinging fingers. She gave him a pout and let her hands move from his hair to the open neck of his shirt. His eyes fluttered briefly closed as her nails toyed with his bare skin.

“I, erm, I was going to ask are you sure about...”

She didn't let him finish his question. She hooked a leg around his hip and tugged him towards her. The smooth leather of his britches was warm under her skin, but nothing compared to the sensation of Rumple's hips grinding against hers. He thrust against her twice before he fought back some control and eased a little distance between their lower halves.

“Okay, so you do want this. Good. Wow. Erm...”

He was going to ask her how she wanted to do this. For all she loved words they didn't come easily to her in this moment. She gripped the collar of his shirt and gave a tiny tug, just enough to make her intention clear. Rumple's eye went wide and he nodded. Belle bit her lip and really pulled. With a sharp rip the thin fabric tore, making both of them laugh softly. Belle's ran her hands across the glittering plans of his scaled chest as Rumple struggled to free his arms from the wreck of his shirt. The rags were tossed aside as Belle's fingers caught the laces of his britches.

Rumple gave her a wonky smile; “They go on with magic, best they come off the same way?”

A nod from Belle and the trousers were banished with a thought. Rumple howled as Belle reached around and grabbed his arse with both hands. A smug smile appeared on her lips as she squeezed the firm muscles. A wicked twinkle appeared in his eyes and he flipped them over. Belle surprised gasp turned into a moan of wanton pleasure as her sex slipped across Rumple's cock.

“Oh, ooohh.”

They settled with Rumple leaning against the headboard and Belle in his lap. In a soft blur of stroking hands, questing fingers and warm kisses they moved together. From amber to blue permission was requested and granted. Breath that had been held slowly escaped as satisfied sighs as two became one. Waves of pleasure swelled again and again until finally they crested together.

Somehow they had ended up snuggled side by side. Belle's hand lazily stroking Rumple's side as he twirled a lock of her hair around his fingers. Everything had changed, and come the morning they would talk about the exact nature of that change, but for now peace and contentment ruled in the Dark Castle.


End file.
